Land of the Dead
by Unhobbity Hobbit
Summary: Merry falls ill and strange things start happening, dead people appearing, Pippin going missing and apparently he's not the only one. What the heck is going on?
1. Visiting

Merry was ill again. It seemed to creep up on him every time the weather took a turn for the worse. He had been ill on and off all winter and he certainly looked as though he had. It was now late spring and Merry had avoided illness for a few months running and was looking all the better for it. He had once again become fit enough to wander the Shire unaided. Pippin, who had been very worried by his cousin's uncharacteristic illnesses, had been overjoyed when Merry could finally leave their house in Crickhollow and journey with him to meet Frodo and Sam in Bag End.  
  
Frodo and Sam had been equally worried by Merry's deteriorating state over the Winter and had visited regularly, helping Pippin look after him when they could and giving moral support whenever it looked like Pippin could no longer cope. They were by no means the only ones who had helped during that tough period though. Members of Merry's family had often wandered down from Brandy hall and Pippin's own sisters had occasionally popped in when no one else could.  
  
All in all, Merry had had plenty of nursing from everyone and he was truly sick of it. He also wanted to thank them all, so he and Pippin had arranged with Frodo and Sam, a little get together for everyone who had helped. Merry didn't want to drag Sam away from his family once again, he also wanted to see this new-born daughter of Sam's and so they had decided to meet in Bag End.  
  
Early in the morning, Pippin and Merry had packed up all the clothes and possessions they would need for a considerable length of time (they hadn't decided how long they were staying for yet) and then embarked on the day-or- so's journey from Crickhollow to Bag End by cart. Pippin at the reins, Merry was given time to sit back and bask in the warmth of the sun, occasionally interrupted from his thoughts by passers by wishing him well and expressing how glad they were to see him up and about again. Merry had waved to them, thanked them and wished them well back and got back to his day dreaming. He and Pippin had spoken little; there was no need to. Merry was leaning against Pippin and Pippin was only glad that he was well enough to be out here to do such a thing, though he noted that despite the months of recuperating Merry was still not his proper weight, but he was getting there.  
  
Merry and Pippin had arrived at Bag End late that night, Pippin had dropped off to sleep and Merry was now in charge of the horse. Merry had shook Pippin awake and he had yawned and stretched. "So soon?" he had inquired as his sleepy brain slowly took into account that the sun was now down and there was a distinctly chill breeze in the air. Sam was soon out to greet them and help unload their luggage, while Frodo waited inside setting a meal out on the table and Rosie saw to a disgruntled young Elanor.  
  
But that was three days ago now, outside the rain poured and the grey sky rumbled every so often, sometimes quietly, sometimes loud enough to rattle the crockery hanging from the dresser in the kitchen. Merry groaned as he turned onto his side and began heaving over the basin that had been left by his bed in case he was sick again. They need not have bothered though; Merry's stomach was pathetically empty. He felt only the horrible burning sensation of acid creeping up his already sore throat. A tiny amount made it into his mouth and he spat that out quickly into the basin and wiped his mouth on the sheets. He rolled back over and replaced the cool cloth on his forehead.  
  
Frodo walked into the room carrying another cloth, he took the one off Merry's head and placed the new one there instead and sat down on the chair next to the bed.  
  
"I'm sorry for being such trouble." Croaked Merry, his voice grated against his throat and it hurt to talk.  
  
"Don't worry about it Merry, you're giving me something to do and Pippin's finally getting a well-deserved rest."  
  
"Yes, Pippin's done so well looking after me. All winter too!"  
  
"He loves you Merry, and you'd do the same for him in the drop of a hat."  
  
Merry nodded his head, he knew that he wouldn't hesitate to help his cousin out if he were in a similar situation. Frodo glanced down at the basin and saw the foul-smelling liquid there.  
  
"Do you want a drink?" He said. Merry nodded and Frodo left, returning shortly afterwards with a glass of cool water.  
  
Merry sat up and took the drink in his shaky hand, gulping the contents down before he felt sick again.  
  
"Where is Pip?" he asked.  
  
"Asleep, in his room," Replied Frodo, "We were going to leave him where he fell asleep on the chair but it was difficult to get around him to you, so we moved him."  
  
"He needs a good rest in a bed, all those nights of sleeping on my bedroom floor can't have been the most enjoyable." Said Merry, his throat felt a little better but it was still unbelievably dry, despite the drink he'd just had.  
  
Another low rumble thundered through the air. It seemed to Frodo to vibrate his very bones. Once the noise had died down, the house was dominated by the new noise of a child wailing. Frodo walked out of the room and accosted Rosie on her way to comfort Elanor.  
  
"I'll take care of Elanor, I think it's about time you looked after the less demanding of the two." He said. Rosie smiled to him in thanks and changed her course towards Merry's room. She found Merry once again heaving into the basin, bringing up the much-needed water out of his stomach. Rosie sat next to him and rubbed his back until he was finished.  
  
"Could you get me another drink please?" Merry asked in a barely audible whisper. He was determined to drink something and keep it down. Rosie left and returned a little while later with a hot mug of lemon and honey.  
  
"Something my mum used to give me when I had a sore throat. Here." She said handing the drink to Merry. Merry took it and drank it; it slipped easily down his throat and took the edge off the pain.  
  
"Thankyou." He whispered as he lay back down in the bed and handed the mug back to Rosie. Soon the utter exhaustion of constantly bringing food up combined with the lack of food going the right way through his system; Merry dropped off into a fitful sleep. 


	2. A Restless Night

Sam ran up the path to Bag End and slammed the door behind him, he was dripping wet from the downpour outside. He removed his cloak and hung it on the peg. The Hobbit had just returned from sending messages to Buckland and Tuckborough about Merry's condition and the cancellation of the get together. He strode down the main hall looking for someone to give him updates on what had been happening when Frodo stepped out of a room with baby Elanor asleep in his arms. He put a finger to his lips to keep Sam quiet and motioned him closer so he could talk to him.  
  
"I'll go put Elanor to bed, then I'll talk to you." He whispered. He disappeared into the room then quickly re-emerged, minus the child. He motioned for Sam to follow him as he walked towards Pippin's room. "He's been asleep ever since you left, I daresay he deserved it too." Sam nodded in acknowledgement as Frodo led him onto Merry's room. They peered in but the form of a sleeping Rosie obscured the bed. "It seems Elanor's taken her toll on Rosie as well." And there she was, her head resting on her chest and a book open on her lap. "I'm afraid Merry's not nearly so peaceful though." Said Frodo as they walked further into the room so that Merry was in view. He was groaning and whimpering in his sleep, trying to toss and turn but failing terribly. Sweat was running down his face, which was horribly pale.  
  
Sam gazed worriedly down on Merry's face and wiped it dry with a spare handkerchief from his wife's hand.  
  
"I'll watch over him while you get some rest of your own Mr. Frodo." Said Sam; Frodo was about to protest until a yawn overcame him. "Perhaps you're right Sam, but don't you hesitate to wake me the moment you need any help!" He said  
  
"No need," said a voice behind them, making the two hobbits jump and turn towards the doorway where Pippin was standing, his hair messy and clothes crumpled from sleeping in them. Noticing this, he smoothed down his clothes while saying, "I'll help Sam watch Merry, you've done plenty enough."  
  
Frodo nodded sleepily and retired to his room to get his own rest. Pippin stepped aside for him to leave and walked forward to check on Merry. He wiped the sweat off Merry's forehead with his hand and was taken aback by the heat of it.  
  
"My dear Merry! You're hotter than ever!" he said with a worried voice. The pitiable sounds from Merry's mouth subsided a little at the sound of his friend's voice and he tried to snuggle into the soothing touch but Pippin pulled away, not wanting to risk making Merry any hotter than he already was. He rolled the covers back down to Merry's waist to try to cool him a little. The bedcovers were drenched with Merry's sweat but they couldn't change them now, there were more pressing matters.  
  
Pippin rushed to get another cool cloth and on his way back into the room he nearly bowled over Sam, who was carrying his wife back to bed. Sam stepped aside and Pippin sat at the chair at Merry's side and began talking to him in a comforting way, something he had become good at ever since he found that it helped Merry calm down on nights such as this.  
  
Sam left Pippin with Merry for a while, went to the master bedroom and placed Rosie carefully on the bed. She sighed beautifully in her sleep and Sam watched her peaceful face. She seemed to be having a dream as her face kept moving but Sam was pleased to see that the expression that crossed her face more often than not was a small, happy smile.  
  
Sam shook his head and returned to see if Merry or Pippin needed anything and said so as he entered the room.  
  
"Merry could do with a bit of water and I wouldn't mind a cup of tea." Answered Pippin. Sam nodded and turned back towards the door of the room, but was stopped, "And some bread and butter if that's alright with you." Sam nodded and continued towards the door but was stopped again, "Oh, and some of those crumpets, with that lovely blackcurrant jam that Rosie makes!" Sam grinned and turned towards Pippin,  
  
"Certainly Mr. Pippin. Is there anything else I can get you?"  
  
"Do you have any fresh strawberries?"  
  
"It's the wrong time of year for strawberries, fresh ones anyhow."  
  
"Then no, I'm fine."  
  
Sam went to the kitchen and prepared the food, he fixed a little something up for himself as well. He was glad to see that Merry's condition hadn't affected Pippin's appetite in any way, nor had it affected his sunny disposition, Sam suspected that had something to do with the cheery outlook on life he knew Pippin to have.  
  
He brought the food in on a tray and set it down on a table, Pippin immediately grabbed a crumpet and ate it greedily, slurping at his tea between gulps. Sam was a little taken aback by Pippin's lack of table manners but decided to ignore it and took a slice of cake he had cut for himself.  
  
"I didn't know you had cake!" said Pippin, noticing what Sam had in his hand.  
  
"If it's a piece of cake you're looking for this is the last one." Sam said.  
  
"Oh it's fine, you have it then." Said Pippin. He didn't want to deprive Sam of any food he wanted. They ate in silence for a while until Pippin finished all his food and only had half a cup of tea left. Sam was still waiting for the tea to cool and had half his cake left.  
  
"Just how hungry were you?" He asked, flabbergasted by his fellow hobbit's ability to eat food so fast it didn't stay in his mouth for more than a second.  
  
"Very, I haven't eaten since we first arrived." Answered Pippin.  
  
"You haven't eaten for three days? You should have said something sooner!"  
  
"I'm quite used to it though, when Merry's going through a bad period he sometimes needs care for days on end and there's no time for food other than a quick biscuit now and then." Said Pippin, quite cheerfully. Sam stared at the younger hobbit; he hadn't realised quite how much Pippin had given up for Merry. It had never occurred to Sam how deep the love between these two hobbits went, nor how similar their relationship was to his and Frodo's.  
  
"Are you eating that cake or are you just going to sit there holding it?" said Pippin, interrupting his thoughts. Sam opened his mouth to reply when Merry coughed. Pippin turned towards him immediately, Merry's eyes were wide with fear and his eyebrows were knotted in confusion. His eyes swivelled wildly around the room and he cried out. He tried to sit up but Pippin held him down with the help of Sam, both were trying to be as gentle as possible. Pippin tried calming Merry down with the sound of his voice but it wasn't working.  
  
"Pippin!" He said looking strait at Pippin, "It's all too big! Tell them to go away!" Neither Pippin nor Sam had the slightest idea what Merry was talking about but Pippin tried to console him anyway.  
  
"Everything's the right size Merry!"  
  
"And there's no one else here 'cept from us." Joined Sam. Merry looked from one to the other in utmost confusion. The fear had disappeared from his eyes but tears were now replacing it. Pippin was the first to notice this and he pulled Merry up into a sitting position and held him tight. Merry put his arms around Pippin; all of his previous energy had vanished along with his fear. He broke down into tears and through his sobs Sam could hear him talk.  
  
"I heard them bargaining! They wanted something bigger but it was already too big!"  
  
"Who was bargaining?" Asked Sam, "What was too big?"  
  
"Everything was! And they were trying to make it bigger!" Answered Merry, though it wasn't much of an answer. Pippin rubbed Merry's back, he was used to Merry being like this.  
  
"It was only a dream Merry! All right? Just a dream." Pippin looked at Merry, who nodded, so Pippin lay him back down. "Have a drink of water while you're awake." He said as Sam passed him the glass from the table. Merry nodded once again and Pippin helped him to sip some down. Shortly, Merry stopped drinking, Pippin looked at the amount still in the glass.  
  
"You should really drink some more." He said offering the drink once more, but Merry shook his head this time.  
  
"I won't hold it down if I have any more." Merry said quietly and he managed a small smile before he was cut short by a yawn. In no time at all he was asleep again, it looked like a better sleep this time, more restful.  
  
"What was that all about?" questioned Sam "I don't think I've seen Mr. Merry so scared ever since I met him! And I'm sure I don't know what he was talking about."  
  
"No, I don't either. I do know that it's the fever that makes him like this though. I don't dare leave him when it's just us two in the house, not after I saw what he did when I did leave him the first time."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"He got up and tried to find me, but he found his way outside instead. I don't know why he'd think I was outside but that was where he went. It was a horrible night, not unlike tonight, but it was hailstones, not rain. Luckily I wasn't gone for long and found the front door open; I got him back inside and warmed him up quick as I could. And speaking of warmth, the fire's dying down. I've already used up all the wood from this room and my own." Said Pippin, being strangely practical. Sam saw that Pippin was right about the wood and rushed out to get some from the dining room, he'd fill up all the baskets with wood from the woodshed in the morning.  
  
He piled up the fire at bit more, but not so much that it would get too hot, the last thing Merry needed was to get too hot.  
  
Merry slept soundly after that, unfortunately the same couldn't be said for Elanor. She woke up five times during the night and into the early morning and another four times after Rosie had woken up and sternly sent Sam to bed, though he'd protested to the very end. 


	3. Breakfast

A/N: This is a little shorter than the previous but the next one's really long and. strange.  
  
Frodo woke up to the smell of frying bacon and the sound of a sizzling breakfast. He got up quickly and washed and dressed himself, he was looking forward to a good meal. He walked into the kitchen and the sight that met his eyes certainly did not disappoint. Sam turned away from the stove upon hearing Frodo enter the room and grinned at him, holding a plate full of food.  
  
Frodo grinned back and relieved Sam of his burden (there was a lot of food on the plate). He sat down at the table and Sam recounted all that had happened while Frodo was asleep.  
  
"He's not eaten for three days?" He exclaimed upon hearing this particular piece of information.  
  
"That's just what I said but he says he's used to it, not that I would believe Mr. Pippin could ever be used to not having food." Frodo laughed at the last comment.  
  
"I agree! Which is why I think you should fix up a plate for him." Sam did as he was asked and handed the plate to Frodo, who took it through to Merry's room, his own half-eaten breakfast in the other hand.  
  
Merry was the most peaceful that Frodo had seen him since he had first arrived and Pippin was lying over him, breathing gently. Frodo sat down on the bed next to Pippin and smiled upon their sleeping forms until he noticed that Pippin's breathing wasn't the calm breathing of someone who is asleep, it looked more like he was crying.  
  
Frodo balanced the plates on the far side of the bed and touched Pippin on the shoulder.  
  
"Pippin?" He said tentatively, "What's wrong?" Pippin looked up at him, the patch on the bed where his face had been was wet and tears were coursing down his cheeks. He began to sob harder as he tried to get his words out and Frodo waited patiently.  
  
"It's Merry!" He finally managed before his breathing made it near impossible for him to speak.  
  
"What's the matter with him? He looks fine to me." Said Frodo. Perhaps 'fine' was not the best choice of words, Merry looked far from fine, his face was colourless and thin and his body was weak after only three days of illness.  
  
Pippin tried to gather himself together again and after a little while he got his breathing under control enough to speak.  
  
"I can't wake him!"  
  
After a small silence, the full impact of these words hit Frodo and he drew his younger cousin in and held him. He could feel the larger body shaking with uncontrollable sadness. He began to rock Pippin like a mother would a child; tears were running silently down his own cheeks, of all the ways to die, this is not the way Merry should have to go.  
  
Sam walked into the room and took in the sight of the two crying hobbits. His hopes of having a quiet breakfast while they waited for Merry to wake up were shattered. He moved towards the pair and touched Frodo's shoulder. Frodo looked up at him, the sadness in his eyes was so deep and so loving, and it touched Sam's very soul.  
  
"Is Mr. Merry." Started Sam but he didn't have the will to finish. Pippin's sobs came harder, answering any questions Sam may have had.  
  
"No, not yet." Said Frodo, now resigned to Merry's fate. Pippin pulled back from Frodo's hold and he wiped his tears away. He looked at both Sam and Frodo, whom he knew to have a great love for each other, perhaps even greater than his love for Merry and he thought about all that they had sacrificed for each other, their love had never failed. He hardened in his resolve; he was not going to give up on Merry until after he had breathed his last breath.  
  
"We mustn't think like that Frodo." He said sternly, "Merry will wake again." 


	4. Dreaming

A/N: Bit of a strange one this, but nice and long.  
  
Merry was trapped. A foul tunnel, slimy and sticky, was his prison. He has ventured both ways but found no exit only walls. The walls were wet from something seeping through the ground from above; perhaps he was under a river. The walls glistened in an unknown light and Merry was so thirsty, he'd drink anything. He ran to the walls, the smell of stagnant ponds hung round them but Merry didn't care. He cupped his hand under a running stream of liquid and collected it in his hand. Without stopping to check it he drank deeply from it and swallowed. He went to get more until he tasted the traces of liquid in his mouth, it had a familiar coppery taste, like blood. Merry spat out anything in his mouth that wasn't attached to him, he looked at his hands and to his dismay, they were red. He was loathed to wipe the foul liquid on his front but there was nothing else he could do.  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped and turned.  
  
"Mr. Merry, come back to us won't you?" Merry couldn't believe his eyes.  
  
"Oh Sam! How ever did you get down here?" He said as he flung his arms around Sam's neck. Sam did not return the gesture though. Behind Sam was the interior of Bag End, the sun was shining and the Shire outside was the greenest it had ever been. Merry pulled Sam away from him, to point out the beauty of it, but then he looked at Sam's face. The eyes were sunken and almost completely gone, his skin was dry and hung off the bones as there was nothing inbetween. A horrible smell of rotting hung around Sam and Merry immediately let him go; he dropped to the floor like a stone. Sam's clothes slowly deflated, wrapping only Sam's skeleton now but that soon turned to dust and was blown away by a draft from an open window. Merry stared in wide-eyed horror as he fell to his knees and clutched Sam's dusty shirt to him. He lost all track of time sitting in that sunny room, holding the clothes of a hobbit that was once dear to him, but he knew that he must move on.  
  
He rose and took a handkerchief from Sam's shirt pocket and tucked it into his own, he needed something to remember him by. He walked to the door and put his hand on the handle but paused there, what horror was awaiting him there? And why hadn't the sun gone down yet?  
  
He pushed the door open and knew strait away that he was no longer in the Shire. The smell was more wild and there were trees all around. But the place was familiar to him nonetheless. He could remember what happened here so very clearly and he could hear a horn blow, as if out of a memory. The horn call blew louder and got closer, there was no mistaking it, it was the horn of Gondor.  
  
Merry turned towards the sound and he could clearly see Boromir running towards him, his sword in one hand, his horn in the other and his elven cloak billowing out behind him. Merry could now hear the footfalls of the Uruk-Hai, he knew what was coming next and he glanced around for Pippin but he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Boromir faced the oncoming hoards and stood, preparing to fight to the death as Merry knew he would.  
  
"Run Boromir! Run! Save yourself! Please!" He yelled in vain. Boromir merely looked at him and shook his head as the first of the Uruk-Hai charged towards him. He fought well, he deflected all of his attackers and none of them survived. Merry stood on and watched, he had no weapons other than his fists but he was dreading what was to come.  
  
Boromir slew another foul creature and right on cue, the first arrow struck. Merry was distraught, he was going to lose Boromir all over again and there was nothing he could do about it. But there was something else he could do; he could be there for him this time. The second arrow hit and Boromir fell to his knees.  
  
"No!" cried Merry as he ran to Boromir's aid, "Please stop! Why are you doing this?"  
  
"Because I must." answered Boromir looking deeply into Merry's eyes before pushing him out of the way of the third arrow. Merry rolled across the ground and stopped himself in time to see Boromir struggle to get up, then fall back down. He ran over to him and knelt by his side, Boromir gripped his arm and tears poured freely down his face.  
  
"Goodbye Boromir, and thankyou." He said quietly. Boromir managed a small smile and he gripped Merry's arm harder.  
  
"Good luck to you and your kin, my friend." He said before his grip failed and his body fell limp. Merry knew what he would do now, tears still coursing down his face, he stood over Boromir's body and faced the oncoming army to defend Boromir as Boromir had him. His fists were balled up and he held them before him, ready to attack anything that came close enough. All he could see charging towards him was the filthy hilt of a sword, he screwed up his eyes and braced him self for the impact. It never came.  
  
"Come on now Merry love" said a distinctly female voice. Merry opened up his eyes and looked all round, he was back in the Shire, on Bagshot row. Now, whose voice had spoken? It had sounded like Estella, how much he wanted it to be Estella. But no, Estella's voice was softer than that and she never called him 'love'.  
  
"Merry!" said the voice again and Merry recognised it easily as Rosie's voice, from somewhere around his feet strangely enough. He looked down and he found that a huge hole had opened at his feet and at the bottom of it was Rosie. Merry opened his mouth to say something but Rosie got there first.  
  
"Wake up Merry!" she said firmly.  
  
"But I am awake!"  
  
"Oh no you're not!" A voice from over his shoulder made him jump. The voice was deep but it wasn't smooth, it was the kind that grates against your ears when you hear it. Merry shuddered, he knew perfectly well whose voice it was, but he looked over his shoulder to check, hoping against hope it was someone playing a trick on him.  
  
But no, it was just whom he had feared, Grishnákh was standing behind him, twirling a filthy knife. Merry spun around and stepped backwards, momentarily forgetting there was a hole behind him. He realised it too late and fell backwards onto the hard ground. The hole had disappeared! Were Grishnákh not standing over him, he might have started trying to dig Rosie out but Grishnákh was standing over him, so he scrambled up and ran for his life.  
  
He glanced behind him after a while of running to find that Grishnákh hadn't been following him and he had run to a completely deserted part of the Shire, if it was a part of the Shire. The fields grew wild and some trees were dotted here and there, there were wildflowers aplenty. This place had a calm peacefulness about it. All Merry wanted to do was flop to the floor and sleep but there was something nagging in his mind that he knew he had to do. Yes! He remembered, he was going to find Frodo and Pippin and get them out of this place, it was already too late for Sam and Rosie.  
  
A scream shattered the silence. To Merry's relief it wasn't a scream of pain or fear, but a baby screaming for food. His relief was short-lived when he realised whose cry it would have to be.  
  
"Elanor!" He moaned, "Please don't say you're here too." He followed the direction of the screams to a tree, where the screams started coming from directly above him. He looked up and saw Elanor cradled in the branches. A new voice that Merry had never heard before was carried to them both on the wind and it soothed them.  
  
Rock-a-bye baby, On the tree top, When the wind blows, The cradle will rock, When the bough breaks, The cradle will fall, And down will come baby, Cradle and all.  
  
The wind began to pick up once the nursery rhyme had finished and the branches holding the baby began to sway and bend. The weight of the baby was becoming too much for them and they were at breaking point, they began to creak and one of the snapped, it was now only holding on by the bark, Elanor wouldn't be up there for much longer.  
  
"How are you today Merry?" Merry looked down from Elanor up in the tree, the weather immediately reverted back to its original state and when he looked up into the tree again he could see only leaves and birds. He looked back down at the speaker.  
  
"Frodo! I've been looking for you! You have to get out of here!" He ran towards Frodo, wanting to grab onto him before anything came between them, but he was too late. A young lad stepped out from behind the tree, directly into Merry's path and Frodo turned and began to walk away.  
  
"Please move, I need to get to Frodo!" Begged Merry.  
  
"I am Frodo!" said the lad indignantly.  
  
"No you're not, that's Frodo!" said Merry, pointing to the figure in the distance, which was getting further and further away from him.  
  
"I AM Frodo Baggins!" shouted the boy, stamping his foot. Merry studied him and after a little while he realised the lad was telling the truth. He was looking at a Frodo exactly as he had been on his thirty-third birthday, though he didn't sound like Frodo.  
  
"I want to see the old Frodo though, please let me pass."  
  
"You shall not pass!" Said Frodo, doing a very child-like impression of Gandalf. Merry sighed and looked down at Frodo, but Frodo wasn't there anymore, he was now just a ten year old and he was growing shorter all the time.  
  
"I AM Frodo Baggins!" He yelled again, and then he began to cry. Soon enough he was a small baby crying on the floor in a bundle of clothes. Merry picked him up and tried to soothe him, rocking him gently and humming to him but still he cried and still he shrank. Before long Frodo had become lost inside his own clothes and when Merry shook them out he found nothing.  
  
Merry was too shocked to cry or grieve, but he did take Frodo's shirt and tie it around his waist, he would have worn it but it was far too small.  
  
"No! I won't leave him!" The sky darkened as clouds quickly blew over. The land dried and the trees died, becoming hollow pieces of rotting wood stuck in the ground. Merry faced the new voice, a voice so familiar to him he knew it almost as well as his own.  
  
"I want to be here for him!" It shouted again. Shadows were flying above and they brought back horrible memories, which he pushed out of his mind for the moment. He strove through the darkness until he found his beloved Pippin.  
  
Pippin was standing proudly, brandishing his sword and wearing the uniform of the citadel guard. The white tree shone out brightly against the black and each star looked as if it were real. Merry began running towards Pippin, until he saw who Pippin was brandishing he sword at. Pippin was stood before the great eye of Sauron. Merry couldn't help but use Gandalf's phrase.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" He muttered to himself. The ground began to shake as a laugh began, almost like the world was laughing at his predicament. It was an evil and mirthless laugh from one who takes pleasure in other's pain. The entire world seemed to be shaking from fear of this laugh. Merry looked up at the eye again, tendrils of fire were reaching towards Pippin, he longed to tell Pippin to run but he couldn't move for fear. The fire twined itself about Pippins arms at first, pulling him in, then it reached around his body, drawing him in quicker. By this time Pippin was screaming hysterically as his body was burnt away.  
  
Merry was fixated with horror, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. Suddenly a black object dropped from above and cut out his view. At first Merry was thankful until he realised what was standing in front of him.  
  
The Witch-king sat atop his terrible beast, staring down upon Merry. The blackness where his face would have been was filled with hatred and revenge.  
  
"You can't be here! You're dead! Eowyn killed you!" screamed Merry in his confusion. The leader of the nazgûl merely laughed. A laugh very similar to his master's. The sound filled his ears until it drowned out even Pippin's screams. He clamped his hands over his ears and sank to the ground, trying to think of anything but what was happening to him. When would this nightmare end?  
  
After who knows how long, he took his hands away from his ears and listened. Silence. It was bliss. He opened his eyes, the darkness was gone. It was still night-time though, and it was overcast, but the moon peeped out from her hiding place and a handful of stars shone down. But it wasn't quite silent, he could hear footsteps. Then another voice, he'd already heard it here, deep and harsh.  
  
"Find it? Find what? What are you talking about little one?" There was a small pause as nobody spoke and Merry recalled the scene in his mind.  
  
He then heard a sound: gollum gollum and a different, higher pitched, softer and more joyful voice spoke,  
  
"Nothing, my precious"  
  
"O ho!" Hissed Grishnákh softly "That's what it means, is it? O ho! Very ve- ry dangerous, my little ones."  
  
"Perhaps," he heard himself say. "Perhaps; and not only for us. Still you know your own business best. Do you want it, or not? And what would you give for it?" He found himself walking towards the two and sitting himself next to Pippin, with Grishnákh inbetween them. Just as it had been that night.  
  
He now noticed that Grishnákh was searching Pippin, he had not yet started on Merry though he remembered the feeling of the cold claws groping at him.  
  
"Do I want it? Do I want it? What would I give for it? What do you mean?" Grishnákh tried to act puzzled but he knew perfectly well what the two hobbits meant.  
  
"We mean," began Pippin, but he never finished, instead of carrying on, as he should have done, he reached under his cloak, drew out a sword and slashed Grishnákh's throat. The Uruk-Hai fell to the ground dead, black blood gushing from the wound.  
  
"Right then," started Pippin as though he'd done no more than wash the dishes "What shall we do now?" he finished in a more menacing tone. Merry looked up from the dead body at his cousin.  
  
"You have it don't you?" said Pippin accusingly and then he added: gollum gollum. Merry smiled at Pippin, thinking he was still playing at being Gollum but before his eyes Pippin began to change. His body grew thinner, his skin paler and his eyes larger. Merry stood up and began to back away.  
  
"What's the matter Merry dear?" hissed the half-Gollum half-Pippin crouched in front of him. Merry didn't answer and continued to back away. "You have it! I knew it! You have it! You have the precious!" Gollum screeched. Merry still backed away. "We knows you have it, we do! You cannot hides!"  
  
The creature now in front of Merry was hideous, how it could ever have been a hobbit, Merry couldn't fathom. He had never seen the real Gollum but from the stories this was exactly how he had imagined him to look. The way he spoke was almost identical to the way Bilbo used to when he imitated him in his tales.  
  
"Give it to us!" the creature yelled at him and in Pippin's own voice, it finished "My dearest cousin."  
  
Merry finally turned and ran. He ran flat out but behind him he could always hear Gollum, screeching insults and curses at him.  
  
Merry was tiring and Gollum was gaining and before Merry could do anything about it, Gollum had leapt onto his back. He could feel cold hands reach their way around his neck and they began to squeeze. His throat burned as he fell to the ground choking. There was less and less space for air to get through as Gollum continued to squeeze. Each struggle and even breath became a labour. Shadows enveloped his world; he could no longer see a thing. He could only hear the triumphant yelps of his attacker and feel the weight on his back and the fingers still round his throat.  
  
All of a sudden the weight was lifted from him and it seemed as if Gollum was dragged from off his back. Merry rolled over and with his last effort he opened his eyes. The light was nearly blinding but there was no Gollum in sight. A figure was standing over him, smiling at him. Merry's eyes adjusted to the light and he could now clearly see who it was.  
  
Boromir knelt down beside him and stroked his forehead tenderly, he bent over and gave it one final kiss before Merry closed his eyes and his body gave up the fight. 


	5. Waking

"Get in here quick! Mr. Merry's stopped breathing!" Sam yelled at the top of his lungs. Frodo and Rosie rushed in, closely followed by an extremely tired-looking Pippin. Pippin pushed between Frodo and Rosie and saw Merry. Gingerly, he climbed onto the bed and towards Merry's head. His chest was no longer rising as Sam had said.  
  
"No." he whispered and a tear broke away from his eye and made its way down his cheek. "You can't leave me Merry, not now." The tear fell from Pippin's face onto Merry's. "You still have children to have, and let's not forget, Estella to court." A small smile made its way onto Pippin lips somehow through all his misery. "And you promised me you'd make apple sauce again from the tree in the garden!"  
  
Frodo looked on at the weeping, yet laughing Pippin as he came up with all the silly little promises Merry had made over the years, which he had plainly never forgot. Frodo found it hard to be so cheerful, Merry was gone and so, it seemed, was a part of him. He didn't feel whole without the reliable Merry there to do and remember things for him. He knew now that Pippin would never be the same without Merry. None of them would be.  
  
Through the haze, Merry could make out Pippin's words. Pippin was right, he was in no place to die, he had ladies to love and apple sauce to make, he was in the prime of his life and wasn't going to give up on it.  
  
He concentrated on breathing once more, it occurred to him how strange that was. He would never take breathing for granted again. Though on second thoughts he probably would, seeing as you have to breathe to stay alive. The sudden change in his mood had sparked his will to live and without thinking he drew in one shuddering breath. The rushing air hurt his throat but he didn't care because his burning lungs were cooled and put to rest as they resumed their usual jobs.  
  
The mist in Merry's mind cleared and it began to work faster. The words around him became less slurred. Someone was lent over him, he couldn't see who as he had his eyes closed but he could feel their shirt on his hand. He grabbed at it and held on with all his strength, he wasn't going to let go until he knew the nightmare had ended and he could grieve his lost ones in peace.  
  
The person tried to pull away from his grip but the shirt stayed firmly entangled in Merry's hand. Merry expected the person to pull away harder but instead they held him a hug. Merry dearly wanted to return it but his limbs were like lead and refused to move. He did feel more and more people pile on top of him though until one of them forced the rest off him.  
  
He loosened his grip on the shirt and his concentration turned towards opening his eyes. Slowly, they raised until only a slit of light could get through. He shut his eyes quickly, the light was far too bright. He tried again but the light was too bright and he groaned and tried to lift his arm to cover his eyes but it was still too heavy. Someone in the room had obviously got the idea because the next time he tried to open his eyes it wasn't nearly as bright in the room.  
  
He strained to keep his eyes open and they stuck on the first thing he saw.  
  
"Sam!" he said quietly, the last time he had seen Sam, he was just a skeleton. "Don't die again, please."  
  
"I ain't got no intention of dying Mr. Merry. I'm as fit as a fiddle! As far as I know anyway." Sam said half-jokingly.  
  
Merry smiled at him. He was relieved that someone saw fit to lighten the mood. He then closed his eyes once more and he focussed on turning his head. Every move he made was a laborious task and needed all his energy. He managed to stop his head while he was looking strait up but he wasn't sure how longs his muscles could hold his head there. Once again he slowly opened his eyes and he found another unexpected surprise smiling back at him.  
  
"Pippin!" he said slightly louder than he had previously and in his surprise he forgot how hard it was to move himself and as his mouth formed a smile, the muscles in his neck relaxed and his head fell to one side.  
  
"Merry! Merry!" Said Pippin, he sounded quite panicked, and Merry felt a light slapping on his cheek.  
  
"Pippin!" he said, but plainly not loud enough. "Pippin calm down! I'm just tired is all!" Pippin ceased his slapping and lifted Merry's head so he could look into his eyes.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry Merry. I didn't want to lose you again." A tear welled in Merry's eye as he thought back to his nightmare.  
  
"I don't want to lose you again either Pip."  
  
"Again? You never lost me in the first place!" Said Pippin a little confused. But he pulled Merry up into a hug all the same. Merry peeped over Pippin's shoulder and to his delight, he saw Frodo and Rosie standing there.  
  
"He never left your side you know." Said Frodo, coming forward and clasping his cousin's hand.  
  
"Even when it didn't do him any good." Said Rosie as she took his other hand.  
  
Merry cried with joy, it had finally ended and he was back among friends. Friends that weren't going to die, walk away or harm him. He longed to tell them all how much he loved them and to thank them for everything they had done but he was choked with tears and he had not the words to express such feelings 'I love you' did just not suffice. 


	6. Memories

A/N: Is that all I'm getting? Just the one? Well, thankyou anyway Natta.  
  
Merry gazed around at his friends, how much they must love him to still be standing here after all that Merry had put them through, all six of them. Wait, maybe his mind was still muggy. Six? He blinked and would have rubbed his eyes if he could but there were still six. Frodo, Rosie, Pippin, Sam and two more people standing behind Frodo with their hands on his shoulders. Merry squinted, they looked familiar to him.  
  
"You didn't tell me you had other guests staying Sam." He said.  
  
"Err," said Sam, running his hand through his hair, "Well, we don't."  
  
"Then who are they?" Said Merry, now thoroughly confused.  
  
"Sorry Mr. Merry, I've lost your meaning. Who are 'they'?"  
  
"Why, the two standing behind Frodo of course!" said Merry to Sam, then he turned to the two, a fine gentlehobbit and his lady dressed in their best clothes. "And a good day to you!" they nodded in return and removed their hands from Frodo's shoulder as he turned to check if anyone was standing behind him.  
  
"Merry, you're seeing things. There's no one there, unless you're talking about a bluebottle, and there's only one of those." Frodo stated after studying the space behind him carefully for any signs of life."  
  
"Frodo!" said Merry, exasperated "It's not like you to be so rude! Sorry for my friend here, he's usually more polite than this." He added to the two, giving Frodo a stern look.  
  
"No," said Pippin, "Frodo's right, there's no one there." He put his hand on Merry's forehead. "You're still quite hot, but not really hot enough to be hallucinating, perhaps it's the lack of food." Was Pippin right? Was he hallucinating? If he was, they were certainly the most coherent hallucinations he'd ever had. They usually rushed about and paid no attention to him, unless it was to leer threateningly.  
  
He closed and rested his eyes, if they were gone when he opened them again, they were hallucinations. He opened his eyes.  
  
"Are they gone?" asked Pippin, for he could see what Merry was doing. Merry shook his head and continued to stare slightly past Frodo. "Maybe if you have something to drink." and Rosie went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  
  
"I'm not sure they are hallucinations Pippin, at least, they're not very hallucination-like."  
  
"They are if we can't see them Merry." Replied Pippin. Merry ignored him and addressed the two again.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" The gentlehobbit, in all his finery stood forward, neatly dodging Frodo as he stepped in front of him.  
  
"But of course. I am Drogo Baggins," he said bowing low, "And this here," he continued, motioning to the Lady, "Is my wife, Primula." Merry stared in wide-eyed shock.  
  
"What did they say?" asked Frodo, becoming quite interested, Frodo could almost believe that there was someone standing behind him, it was beginning to make him feel uneasy.  
  
"And if you're lying about this and you can't see the slightest bit more than we can, I think I might just kill you." Added Pippin, with a humorous glint in his eye. But Merry didn't react and stayed with the shocked expression stuck firmly on his face. "Merry?" prompted Pippin.  
  
"I. I can't say." Said Merry, he didn't want to tell Frodo, because he knew the pain that his parents dying had caused Frodo and he didn't want to remind him of it, especially if they might not even exist.  
  
"Merry, don't be such a twit, of course you can." Said Pippin, who was growing a little tired of Merry's behaviour and, having not slept much for four nights running, wasn't particularly perceptive of his cousin's face.  
  
"Well," began Merry, "It's you're mother and father Frodo." Frodo's face was just as shocked as Merry's. And Pippins became more worried, he hadn't really believed Merry at first, knowing his pranking nature even when he was deadly ill, but he also knew that Merry wouldn't be so cruel as to joke about such a sensitive and hurtful subject. No hallucinations were good hallucinations.  
  
"I'm sorry Frodo," began Merry but Frodo interrupted,  
  
"No no, don't worry, it's not your fault." His words slowly grew quieter and eventually faded into silence, the silence engulfed the entire room and he couldn't help but be reminded of his parents' funeral.  
  
~***~  
  
Everyone stood on the banks of the river. There were people crying and people sniffling into their handkerchiefs. But Frodo, the one who should be crying loudest of all was standing in complete silence, his breath barely moving him.  
  
On the outside he seemed so strong, others marvelled at how he had dealt with it, when he had been told he'd cried, of course, but he seemed otherwise as happy as a lad in his situation could be. He still played with the other children and had adjusted well to life with the Brandybucks.  
  
In truth, a truth that only he knew, he was breaking up. The sadness ran so deep that tears meant nothing. The happy face was there only to fool the older hobbits. At night, when he was alone, he could cry and cry and there seemed to be no end, he'd hug his quilt tight and use it to stifle his cries. Whenever he'd been sad before, his mother had always hugged him and told him everything was all right and when she was there, it was. But now, the one time he really needed his mother, she wasn't there; she was the reason for his despair.  
  
When his mother had not been there to care for him he had turned to his father. He always knew what to do and how to make things better. But he was gone, his strong hands would never hold Frodo again.  
  
This wasn't what pained him the most, as terrible as it was. He wished only to talk to them, to have them back with him, if only for a day, an hour! A single minute even! He knew exactly what he would say to them, for although he didn't dwell on it while awake, in his dreams he would meet them.  
  
They would come home, wet and laughing, like they had so many times when they went swimming and Frodo would run up to them and hug them, hold them and never let go. Then he would tell them what he longed to tell them before they had left the house that night. The only words he needed to have said to them.  
  
"Thankyou, mother, father. Thankyou and goodbye." And as sure as the moon revolving around the Earth, they would leave him, leave him to bask in the bliss of his parents being alive and then to the horror when he remembered it wasn't, and couldn't be true. He had seen the bodies himself.  
  
There were many nights when he woke in the morning with hitched breaths and found wet patches on the pillow. But forever and anon he would strive to be the happy child everyone saw him as. The horrible lie, how could he lie to them so? Never again. Never. 


	7. Emotions

A/N: Seeing as I haven't been able to upload any chapters for a while, I thought I'd give you two today. Pippin seems a little OCC to me, but I am quite pernickety.  
  
Frodo shook his head and roused himself from his dark thoughts. Everyone was staring at him and Sam had the most worried face of all. Frodo smiled at them all.  
  
"I'm fine, really I am." He said and he inwardly cringed at the barefaced lie. Sam knew Frodo better than to believe him strait off, as did Merry and Pippin, but Sam also knew better than to persue such a subject. Merry and Pippin usually would, trying to get Frodo to open up (though often failing miserably) but they had other things on their minds presently and were satisfied with Frodo's claim.  
  
Rosie finally came in the door with a glass of water.  
  
"Sorry, Elanor started acting up." She said as she delivered the water to Merry's bedside. Merry, whose arms had, by now, woken up, took the water and drank deeply, which pleased Pippin to see.  
  
"Are they still there?" asked Pippin.  
  
Merry rubbed his eyes. They were still there and he nodded to confirm it to his friends. Pippin sighed, he couldn't work out what was wrong with Merry as he seemed fine apart from the seeing things. Merry then stopped still and stared at the doorway, Pippin looked over to the doorway: there was nothing there.  
  
Merry, though, could see someone walk into the room, over to the bookshelf in the corner, next to the fireplace. He bent over and picked a book up off the shelf. He then glanced over at Merry and smiled. Merry knew his face.  
  
"Grandpa Rory." He murmured to himself. His grandpa, or 'Old Rory' as he was known by others had died thirteen years previously yet here he was, grinning mischievously as he used to when Merry was but a child. He showed the cover of the green book to Merry, so he could read the gold writing, it said 'The Art of Ale-Making'. It was well known that Old Rory was always trying to brew his own ale so as to save himself some money, but in all his long years he had never succeeded. Merry smiled and rolled his eyes, as he always had done when visiting grandpa Rory and finding him with a barrel of something that smelt like vinegar in his kitchen.  
  
Old Rory then turned from the bookshelf, leaving the book there and strode out of the room. Rosie went over to inspect the bookshelf, she was wondering what it was that Merry had been looking at.  
  
"What's over here Merry?" she asked.  
  
"Nothing anymore. But tell me Rosie, what books are on that shelf?" Rosie was rather surprised by the request but began reading out the titles of the books anyway.  
  
"Oh, there's, err, a couple of recipe books, for cakes and the like; a book on herbs; a book about carving pipes and a book about fiddle playing. My my, we have a lot of useless books here. Why have we got all these? Look. A book about sail making!" She said, holding up a plain brown book.  
  
"That's why they're here and not in the study." Answered Sam, "And there may come a time when you'll be grateful we have those books and you'll thank me for keeping them."  
  
"Why? Are you expecting the Shire to flood soon? Or do you know something I don't about a shortage of pipes that will force you to whittle your own?" To this, Sam had no answer. Merry smiled at this friendly discussion, one that Rosie had quite plainly won.  
  
"Is there a book there about brewing Ale?" Rosie answered positively and Merry continued, "Is it called 'The Art of Ale-Making'? And is this title written in gold ink? And is it bound with green leather, slightly faded on the spine?" Rosie pulled the book out, it fitted the description exactly.  
  
"By the One Merry! How did you know that?" exclaimed Rosie, but Merry just smiled knowingly. That earnt him a shove from Pippin.  
  
"Just say Merry, I can't stand it when you're all smug and a know-it-all." Merry smiled even more knowingly but obliged before Pippin could shove him again.  
  
"A 'hallucination' as you put it, showed me. My old grandpa Rory as a matter of fact."  
  
"Is that so?" said Pippin, with slight disbelief, "Well then, I think we're going to have to test this aren't we? All right then, err, how many pots are there under your bed?"  
  
"Four, Pip. I already knew that." Stated Merry. Pippin opened his mouth to say something more but Frodo stepped forward.  
  
"You're going about this all the wrong way Pippin. Sam, you come with me and we'll hide some things around the hole. Then, we can ask Merry what we've hidden and where. If he's right, then they're not hallucinations."  
  
So Sam and Frodo went out of the room, Drogo and Primula following, and returned a few minutes later. Primula came forward to whisper into Merry's ear but Pippin was sat in the way.  
  
"Pip, move out of the lady's way please." This annoyed pippin exceedingly and it could be clearly heard in his voice,  
  
"Well, it might help if I knew where the Lady's way was before I could move out of it!" Merry was a bit taken aback by his cousin's uncalled-for outburst.  
  
"No need to get in such a mood Pip! Just move to the end of the bed." To which Pippin folded his arms, with tears in his eyes and stood up,  
  
"I don't think I will actually Merry!" and with that, he turned and stormed out of the room. Primula nimbly stepped aside. Merry stared after Pippin in shock,  
  
"What happened there?" he said to no one in particular but Frodo answered him anyway,  
  
"I don't know if you're aware, but you were in a coma for three full days and Pippin never once left your side, not even to sleep, no matter how hard we tried to prise him away from you. Sam even physically dragged him away from you but he wriggled free and ran strait back to your side, his yells were worrying the neighbours as well. They thought it was you in some delirious state of illness. They were waking Elanor up as well if I remember correctly. Anyway, When you woke up, Pippin was overjoyed, as you may have noticed, but you forgot one fundamental thing Merry. You forgot to thank him, if you were planning to in the first place. That hurt him Merry, and he's nearly as exhausted as you are meaning his temper is somewhat shorter than usual." Merry thought about what Frodo said, he had meant to thank them all, he really had! He just hadn't found the words. He opened his mouth to tell them so, but Frodo interrupted, "It's too late now, leave him be and let him get a little rest. He'll be all the better for it in the morning."  
  
Merry sunk back into sadness, he jumped when he heard a small whisper in his ear, telling him where everything had been hidden. He smiled at Primula and quietly thanked her without anyone noticing so it came as quite a surprise when he recited a list of everything they had hidden and where. Frodo, Sam and Rosie stared at each other in amazement and they asked how he knew.  
  
"I was told." He said curtly. Frodo noticed Merry's significantly subdued mood and ushered everyone out of the room. Just before Frodo himself left, he drew the curtains and opened the window. The sky was still grey and there was a familiar smell of freshly fallen rain in the air. Frodo went to walk out the door but Merry caught his attention just before he went through it.  
  
"Thankyou for everything you've ever done for me Frodo. I mean it." Frodo nodded and hurried out of the room, he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. How much he wished he had told his parents that. 


	8. Waiting for Pippin

Frodo woke early the next morning, before anyone else and he decided to go and look in on Merry. He peeped in the door and even though it was only a slight sound, Merry woke.  
  
"Oh, hello Frodo, what's the time?" Frodo looked back across the hallway at a Grandfather clock.  
  
"Nearly four unless the clock's not been wound lately, but knowing Sam, it's in perfect working order." Answered Frodo. Merry sighed and turned over so his back was facing towards Frodo, he'd hoped that he'd wake up about the time Pippin did so he didn't have to wait and worry about what he would say to Pippin nor what Pippin would say to him.  
  
"Do not worry so much." Said a soft, loving voice. It belonged to Primula who had evidently entered the room with Frodo.  
  
"I know I shouldn't." Started Merry and Frodo interrupted,  
  
"Sorry? Shouldn't what?"  
  
"Oh, Frodo, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to. to. to your mother." He admitted.  
  
"She is still here then? Has she been here since we left you yesterday?"  
  
"No, not here as such. She came in with you, I think she stays with you where ever you go, like your father." He said, nodding in acknowledgement to Drogo.  
  
"Where ever I go? Were they with me on the quest?" Merry looked to the two, they nodded solemnly and Primula said they had been with him ever since their spirits had left their bodies. So Merry said to Frodo:  
  
"Yes, they were always with you, ever since they died." Frodo said nothing more, he was wondering what his life would have been like had they not been there, and would it even have made a difference to him.  
  
"Merry, tell Frodo not to dwell on 'what ifs' and 'perhaps'. It is how it is and there's nothing anyone can do about it." Requested Primula, Merry did so and Frodo looked slightly better for it. "And it may be better," continued Primula, "If you didn't talk out loud to us, we can tell what you want to say to a certain extent and talking to thin air tends to unnerve people."  
  
"Alright then," Thought Merry. Primula smiled at him in thanks.  
  
Frodo's worries and regrets were washed away by the comforting news that his parents had been with him all through his life and he felt fresh waves of sleepiness engulf him now that so much weight had been taken off his mind. It was still only ten past four, there was still some time for some more rest. He told Merry of his plans to go back to bed and before he went he got Merry another glass of water. Now Merry was alone and still worrying about Pippin. He tossed and turned restlessly, dropping in and out of sleep. In his mind he was going over how Pippin could greet him in the morning, with a glare and a hiss, reproachfully, sorrowfully, expecting full retribution.  
  
Then Merry realised who he was thinking about. His fever hadn't completely died down so that was what he blamed it on. Pippin was his ever-forgiving friend and one little setback like this wasn't going to change that one bit, it was hardly the first time they had not been on the best of terms. That thought put to rest his fears about the morning, but he still felt guilty for not telling Pippin how grateful he was for all his hard work while he was ill.  
  
Sam popped his head round the door as the clock struck seven o'clock exactly, asking if Merry wanted anything. Merry thought he might try some food today as he was feeling much better. Sam got him some bread and jam and Merry nibbled on it, not eating too fast unless he began feeling nauseous again. Sam checked his temperature and reported that it was well on its way to normality but he shouldn't do too much lest it push his temperature back up. He questioned Sam about Pippin and Sam answered that he was still asleep and was expected to be that way for quite a while.  
  
Merry sighed and continued to nibble at his piece of bread. He soon put it down, his stomach was starting to churn; he was quite plainly not back in shape yet. Outside he could hear the creaking floorboards of the others walking passed. This comforted him and he began to doze off. He was running through a field full of wheat, he ran under a tree and his foot caught one of the tree roots, tripping him up and making him jump, so that he was now wide awake. He hated it when that happened. He settled back down and tried to get back to sleep, as he had nothing better to do. He would like to get up and wander about but his upset stomach put an end to that thought.  
  
When he was just starting to doze off again, he became aware of something not quite right in the room, it was unsettling and he couldn't ignore it. Merry opened his eyes and he was immediately aware of a shadow in the corner. It quickly became more than a shadow; a light wisp of black smoke, which soon became a dark cloud, and with the darkness' growing solidity, Merry's discomfort became wariness and it wasn't long before it became a fully fledged fear. He watched as the cloud took shape; it became a man. This man had no features on his face and his edges weren't clear-cut, they were fuzzy and swirled like thick black smoke when he moved. He had a certain likeness to a ringwraith.  
  
Merry watched as the man approached him. His mouth was dry and he cowered under the covers like a child that has woken during the night and who can't move for fear of something leaping out and getting them. The man approached him and he quaked beneath the sheets, cold sweat formed on his forehead. There was he, Meriadoc the Magnificent, who had aided in the demise of the witch-king, shaking in his bed as an unknown man walked calmly towards him.  
  
The man began to laugh upon seeing Merry's fear. Images from his dream flicked up in Merry's mind, Sauron, the ringwraiths, the darkness. The spirit reached forward and touched Merry's clammy cheek. Merry squirmed away from the touch, it was like a thick fog brushing against him but it had an acrid smell of smoke. Salty tears began forming involuntarily in his eyes, they threatened to break free and run down his cheeks. He felt like a house sparrow trapped beneath a sparrow hawk, awaiting the final squeeze that would end his life, yet still hoping beyond hope that the predator would just get off and leave him alone.  
  
"Don't cry Merry dear." Said the spirit in a mocking tone and he went to wipe the tears from Merry's eyes but he hid his head beneath the covers. "There's no need to be afraid, for yourself anyway." He added with what probably would have been a smile. Merry calmed down at these words enough to speak and he noted the silence that was filling the room.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, but he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know. The spirit chuckled,  
  
"Well, as you're asking, I was referring to your good friend and kinsman Peregrin, also known as Pippin or even Pip I believe." Merry found this knowledge of Pippin unnerving and the fact that he was mentioning Pippin at all made Merry's urgency to find out what the spirit was talking about all the more urgent.  
  
"What about Pip?" he asked, panic was becoming evident in his voice.  
  
"I've been watching him. I've been watching you all actually, but him most intently. He's so full of life, it shall be a joy to take that life away from him." A sudden anger surged through Merry's veins.  
  
"You shall not take the life of my cousin while Sam, Frodo, Rosie and I have ours!" He yelled in defiance.  
  
"That is an all too temping offer, and very noble of you in your condition. Yet I am afraid it's already too late." The meaning of this dawned on Merry,  
  
"What have you done with him?" the spirit reached towards Merry's forehead and the fear immediately took over from the anger and Merry sunk back as far as he could go into the pillow, but it didn't help. The spirit touched his forehead but continued to push forwards into Merry's head. Merry felt as though his head was going to explode, as though it were going to split right down the middle. He'd die there and then. His eyes were screwed up tight and he tried to scream but the pain was too unbearable, any noise would make it hurt even more, if that was possible.  
  
The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had begun. Merry opened his eyes and he found that he was now alone in a dark, dingy forest. He cocked his ear and found that a sound was blowing to him on the wind. He listened harder and worked out that it was a quiet whimper, it was a very pitiable sound. He walked towards the sound but found himself caught up on a breeze and blown towards it. Down below him he could see Pippin sitting in a small clearing, no sunlight reached him where he sat and Merry was taken closer. Pippin was shivering and he pulled his weskit around himself and rubbed his arms to warm them up. Pippin then looked upward - through Merry - and Merry could see tears coursing down his face. His lip was also split and his eye blackened, whatever had done this to his Pip would pay dearly. Pippin then curled up on the ground and hugged his knees in to keep as much out of the biting wind as possible. Merry opened his mouth to comfort Pippin but the wind blew hard and he was whisked away, back to his bed where he opened his eyes once more. After a moment's silence he began hysterically screaming for Pippin. He could tell that the spirit was smiling as he dissolved into the air and blew out of the window.  
  
Frodo and Rosie rushed in to see what the Merry was screaming for. Merry jumped out of his bed and barged his way out of the room, sending Rosie flying. He dashed across the hall, strait into Sam who went reeling backwards, but Merry kept going, fast as he could towards Pippin's room. It couldn't be true, how could the spirit get Pippin? He threw the door to Pip's room open, it was dark and there was still a lump in the covers. Merry threw the bedclothes off but the lump had just been a fold in the material, the bed itself was empty. 


	9. Decision making

Sorry I've taken so long to get this up. Ever since my sister has come home I've been having limited time on the computer. Thankyou all for you reviews, they really do help me keep going.  
  
Frodo, Sam and Rosie walked in to Find Merry crying his eyes out on an empty bed. The curtain blew in as a gust of wind caught it through the open window. The three standing in the doorway saw immediately that Pippin was gone. They didn't know what to do. They had neither idea why Pippin had run away nor how to comfort Merry now that he had. Frodo sat down next to Merry and put his hand on his back, letting Merry know that he was there for him. Merry dragged himself up into a sitting position and sniffed back his tears.  
  
"Did I hurt you Rosie?" he asked, not meeting her eyes as though he were ashamed.  
  
"No love, but there'll be a bit of a bruise on my bottom in the morning, I'm sure." She said and she smiled kindly at him but he would not smile back, he was too worried, far too worried, to smile.  
  
"Do you know what has happened to Pip? Why he has run away?" asked Frodo gently.  
  
"He did not run away, not of his own free will he- Oh Frodo I'm so scared for him! He's all alone in the woods and he's hurt! I couldn't live without him, I really couldn't." Frodo nodded knowingly, he knew the feeling. He couldn't help wondering how Merry knew so much of what happened to Pippin. He decided not to ask now, Merry was too distraught.  
  
Pain, the pain had returned. His head was aching unbearably. He closed his eyes and wished it would go away. He wished it would leave him be and let him at least gather his thoughts. To Merry's surprise it did. But he did not feel the same afterwards. He opened his eyes but it was still dark, what had happened to the light? He opened his mouth to yell out to Frodo but no noise would leave his throat, he was dumb and blind it seemed. What was happening to him?  
  
Suddenly light crept into his eyes, as though he had not truly opened his eyes the first time, but as though he only just had. He wasn't indoors anymore; he was outside in a forest. He recognised it but last time he had seen it from above. He was sat in the exact same position Pippin had been. Merry licked his dry lips and found the taste of blood to be upon them. One of his eyes throbbed terribly as well. This was nothing, though, to the pain he suddenly realised was in his arms and he could not imagine what he could have done to have cause this pain. Slowly he looked down at his arms, he caught a glimpse of red and he knew he didn't want to look anymore, he didn't want to see his injury. But his head continued to tilt downwards and his eyes stared first at the blood on his front. His front? He had been wearing nightclothes, but this body was not wearing his clothes they were wearing Pippin's.  
  
He gasped in shock but still no sound got past his lips and his - or rather Pippin's - eyes roved around, taking in the state of his clothes and body. He followed the splashes of blood here and there until coming to rest on their apparent origin. His arms - slashed and cut with nails and knives - now bled profusely and he had neither the energy nor the means to stop it. Silently they watched the blood dripping from the ends of Pippin's fingers together. Whether Pippin knew he was there or not, Merry could not tell.  
  
A rustle in the nearby bushes made Pippin look up. He could see dark red eyes gleaming out at him from the dark. Pippin curled up in the middle of the clearing, trying to console himself and ignore the beast and impending danger. His tactic did not work and the beast stepped out of the shadows. Its legs were long and slender and covered with sleek black fur, like the rest of its body. Its teeth gleamed for a passing moment when it stepped into a small patch of moonlight and saliva could be seen hanging in a string from its jaws. Pippin's attention then turned to the claws, the sharp claws that stuck out like daggers from the rough surface of the paws.  
  
Pippin grabbed himself a stick; a good strong stick that would take a lot before it broke. He held it in his two hands and readied himself for battle. Merry wanted to be there in body, to help his cousin rather than just watching. The lack of energy he felt in Pippin's body was terrifying and Merry would give anything to be able to offer some of his energy to Pippin. The beast drew nearer and Pippin drew himself up to as tall as he could go while still on his knees. Merry willed him to stand but he would not, perhaps he even could not. Merry couldn't take it any longer. He leapt forward at the beast, clawing at it with his hands.  
  
"OY! MERRY!" Bellowed Sam as Merry suddenly leapt forward and began scratching at his face. Merry was knocked out of his trance and looked bewildered when he stared the red lines on Sam's cheek and just under his eye where he had managed to draw blood. Sam's hand flew up to his cheek and he wiped it and checked it for blood. Finding only a little he turned his attention back to Merry who was still staring wide-eyed at him as though he had grown fangs and sprouted fur all over his body. Merry looked at Sam apologetically but didn't seem able to utter any words. Frodo put his arm around him and he flinched but let him do it anyway.  
  
After yet more time of staring around in slight confusion at everything in the room, Merry broke down crying. Frodo did his best to comfort his cousin but there seemed no end to his tears. They were tears of confusion, sadness and loss.  
  
Without warning the tears stopped and Merry raised his head and looked at everybody in the room. He was ashen-faced but his expression was determined.  
  
"I have to go get him." He said to them all. No one living said anything, but Primula and Drogo rushed forward with every persuasion under the sun to stop him going. Nothing seemed to deter him though and it wasn't too long before the living caught up with the dead and came up with all kinds of things.  
  
"You're still ill!"  
  
"You don't know where he is!"  
  
"You don't even know that anything's wrong, perhaps he just wanted time on his own." The look that Merry gave Sam once he had said that quickly brought silence back down upon the room.  
  
"I do know that something is wrong, I have seen that something is wrong and I couldn't possibly bear to have Pippin suffering as he is, nor would you had you seen what I saw!"  
  
"Then tell us, Merry dear, what did you see?" asked Rosie.  
  
"There is no time, I must leave NOW!" Said Merry, struggling to get up from Frodo's grip, weak as it was.  
  
"Merry." Said Frodo sternly, but softly, "There is no 'I' about it, if anyone's going, it shall be all of us."  
  
"No," Said Rosie, "I'm not made for adventuring and I'd get sick with worry if I left Elanor here on her own." Frodo nodded at her.  
  
"Then it is settled. Merry, Sam and I search for Pippin, while Rosie stays here and watches the baby."  
  
There were nods all round at this and Sam rushed out of the room to fetch all their travelling gear. He didn't like the idea of going on another adventure, but if mister Pippin's life was in danger, then it was well worth his discomfort.  
  
Not so far away, Pippin lay in the dark forest. There was a new set of scratches on his cheek and the stick he still held in his hand was broken in two. Had he the energy, he could've felt the back of his head and found a lump and he could feel a new bruise forming on his back.  
  
The rain began to fall, only a few drops at a time at first but then growing to a fully-fledged downpour. Pippin made no attempt to warm or shelter himself. He lay on his back, with his mouth open, trying to gather as much precious water as he could before the rain stopped. He did not care about the cold; it would be the death of him one way or another while he was trapped in the clearing. 


	10. Coming and Going

A/N: How long did this take to write? I am so sorry, I really couldn't get them out of the door but the I took the story by the throat, and it's taken a most strange turn. It's turning out quite different from what I'd planned.  
  
Sam knew just what to pack and he got it all immediately, foods, blankets, weapons and of course rope. He spread it equally between three packs, then took some out of Merry's pack and put it into his own because Merry wasn't back to his normal strength yet. He also took some out of Frodo's pack and put it into his own, just because it was Frodo and he shouldn't be carrying that kind of weight. Sam returned to the hallway where the others were wrapping themselves up warm in cloaks.  
  
Rosie was fussing around Merry, making sure he was wrapped up especially warm even though outside it was not all that cold.  
  
"Are we ready to go yet?" asked Merry with little patience. Sam handed Frodo and Merry their packs. Rosie noted how much larger Sam's pack was compared to the other two, but nothing would sway her husband's mind if it were set.  
  
"I'll just get the ponies then we can set off." Said Sam as he walked out the front door towards the stables. Merry was very fidgety. Frodo could not get him to stand still or calm down. Merry had his pack on his back and was waiting expectantly for Sam to come back, which he did shortly.  
  
"All ready, let's go" Said Sam.  
  
***  
  
Pippin hadn't moved since his bout with the creature. Nothing would get him to move, he thought. It would be far better for him if what he thought was true, but it wasn't, as he soon found out. He uncurled his legs and stretched them out, like a person who has woken up from a long and refreshing sleep. He pulled his head up and looked around, he was confused, he couldn't for the life of him remember how or why he was here. If he even knew in the first place. He felt a veil had been lifted from his eyes as it suddenly clicked in his mind what danger he was in. He jumped up and glanced around quickly and then regretted it as the blood rushed from his head. He became dizzy and his legs began to shake as his brain tried to deal with the sudden loss of sustenance. White dots appeared before his eyes and soon covered his entire vision. With nothing to lean on, he slowly sank to the floor while his brain still tried to work out the entire muddle. His head was still spinning; it was a strange sensation and it left him with a grin on his face. His vision slowly returned once his heart began to pump blood faster and the shaking in his limbs subsided and finally stopped.  
  
Pippin allowed his body to recover and used the time to analyse his situation. He found he was sitting in an unknown forest, with nothing to protect himself with. He checked himself and found he to be covered in cuts, bruises and blood, not all of which was his own. He vaguely remembered fighting for his life but he'd been so tired at the time that the memory had not imprinted itself properly upon him. Either that, or there was some sort of spell on him, that would explain how he ended up here.  
  
Pippin rose to his feet, slower than the first time so as to keep himself conscious. It appeared that he had lost much blood in the time between going to sleep at Bag End and waking up in the clearing. Now standing, Pippin went as close to the inexorable darkness as he dared to see if there was anything at all around that was familiar. Nothing struck a bell.  
  
It had obviously been raining recently as a damp smell hung in the air and the ground moved and slid beneath his feet and pushed between his toes. He found a small puddle, which ignited his thirst and, although quite disgusted with himself, he drank from it. The water was dirty, as it was likely to be after lying on the muddy, twig-covered ground it was resting on while trying to sink through. Nevertheless, it did great things to his thirst.  
  
With one small problem solved, he moved on to planning what he might do next, searching out food was high on the list. But before he could formulate any real idea, he heard a quiet and far off tune. He listened closer, and heard singing with the tune. Pippin was standing stock-still; such a voice as this, he had never heard before. The first image that came into his mind was that of an Elf, a beautiful Elf-maiden illuminating the gloom around her as she walked through the woods at her own leisurely pace. That image he soon dismissed though, no Elf music he'd ever heard was quite like this. Elves sang of days of old and far off battles. This song, although with no seemingly understandable words, was of a more homely nature. Another, very different image made its way into Pippin's head. His mother was sitting next to a cot, his cot, singing this unearthly song. But that seemed wrong too. He had to go investigate, he had to find the source of that enchanting voice.  
  
Almost before the thought had come into his head, Pippin had walked right up to the very edge of the clearing. He paused, he knew it wasn't wise to leave the relative safety of the clearing, but wisdom was counting for less and less in Pippin's mind. The song was pulling at him, it was closer than when he'd first heard it, bit it refused to come any closer. Pippin struggled with himself, or rather, he struggled with the song; he knew that to go looking for it was utterly foolish but it was pulling and plucking at him, it was, he realised with a jump, physically hurting him. He was filled with a yearning to be near the singer, whatever it was. It started as a tingling his feet and spread up his body from there, soon his entire being was pulsating in time with the music.  
  
Pippin could feel the music build up, he lifted a muddy foot and held it, wavering in the air, as he was still unconvinced that he should plunge into the darkness. But the tune pulled at him, one long held note, full of feeling finally pushed him into the trees. A blanket immediately fell over his consciousness and the last thing he noticed was how all he hurts ached and stung.  
  
***  
  
Merry clung to his head; spasms of pain were shooting through it. He felt himself sliding sideways off his pony so with one hand he grabbed vainly at its mane, the other hand still holding his head. Sam soon appeared next to him on his own pony and held him upright.  
  
"What is it Merry?" Said Frodo from his other side.  
  
"Headache," said Merry as it slowly faded away, "Something's happened."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean to Pippin, something's happened to Pippin." He paused for a moment, thinking, "But I didn't become him." He continued more to himself than anyone.  
  
"You didn't become him?" said Sam, not quite sure that he had heard properly. Merry had explained what had happened the last two times he'd had a headache like this one. Frodo and Sam listened in silence, the silence continued for long after Merry stopped talking. The only sound was off the gentle breeze flowing through the trees and the fast clip-clop of the ponies' hooves.  
  
The sun was shining down upon them, it was a true spring day in the Shire: neither cold nor hot, neither wet nor dry. The ponies were finding it hard to go with the urgency that their riders required due to the fresh green grass lining the sides of the roads. Sam's pony became particularly interested in a large clump of untended grass growing invitingly by someone's front gate. Being a greedy pony (as most ponies are) it was irresistible, so, ignoring Sam's desperate pulling on the reins, it steered off course to supplement its already sufficient breakfast.  
  
Out of the corner of its eye, the pony noticed a shadow. It looked up, slowly chewing a mouthful of grass but nothing was there. It immediately dismissed that anything was wrong and bent its head back down again to eat some more. The shadow appeared again, closer than before. The pony became a little unnerved and looked up again; still nothing was there. It turned its head slowly back towards the grass. The shadow again, but this time it was near enough to reach out and touch the pony's rear end.  
  
It wouldn't get any nearer, the pony made sure of that. It suddenly decided that what its rider had been telling it to do was very wise indeed and managed to do it with astounding speed. It quite suddenly reared up, turned towards the other ponies and galloped after them in blind panic, quickly overtaking them. Ponies, being herd animals, often follow the tail in front, which is exactly what Frodo's and Merry's did now.  
  
The three riders fought against the ponies at first, until an unbidden sense of panic filled them. Sam tried desperately to steer his pony, the lead one, but he only succeeded in dragging its head to the side while it continued on in the same direction. Sam gave up and only concentrated on staying on, which was becoming increasingly hard for Merry in his weakened state.  
  
The road turned away but the ponies didn't, instead they ploughed onwards towards a Hobbit hole. Sam's was the first to leap the fence, then followed Merry's, but Merry was not with it. The lurch of the pony dislodged Merry from the saddle and he slid off it sideways while they were in mid-jump. He curled up into a ball; he was a good enough rider to know to do that, and hit the ground, rolling many times before coming to a halt. Then Frodo and his pony came over the fence, Frodo barely had time to notice that Merry had fallen before he had been taken over the mound of the Hobbit hole and Merry was out of sight. 


	11. A Few Answers

A/N: There's no Pippin in this chapter. That's a first unless I'm mistaken. There will be more of him in the next chapter though, that is, if anyone is reading this fic.  
  
Merry turned back to see his tormentor. No more than a shadowy patch, but still holding the same fear it had the first time he had seen it. He began scrambling backward, trying desperately to get up but moving too fast to actually succeed. The spirit stayed where it was. Merry backed up until he hit the door of the hobbit hole and pushed into it, hoping to vanish through it.  
  
It suddenly opened and arms grabbed him and dragged him from his nightmare. The door slammed but the shadow broke through and dissipated into the air. Merry felt as though the air was poisoned with the presence of the spirit, it lasted for only a moment but that moment stretched over an eternity. He heard a chuckle in his ear and he jumped and stared in fear at the place where the voice had come from but there was nothing there.  
  
The moment passed and the air was cleansed. Merry stared at his surroundings. He was breathing heavily out of fear and exertion. He was in a fine Hobbit hole, not furnished as lavishly as Bag End of course, but still very fine.  
  
"Master Brandybuck!" said a female voice in front of him. Merry jumped and faced her.  
  
"Wh- wh- who are you?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, Dreadfully sorry sir, my name is Bella and this is my brother Hal." She indicated to another Hobbit on the other side of Merry who bowed his head respectfully. Merry smiled vaguely at them both but it quickly fell from his face.  
  
"H- how did you know to pull me away?"  
  
"Father felt it and he knew what it meant, we've-" She stopped abruptly and regained herself "Then we heard the horses thundering over the roof and I looked out of the window and saw you so we dragged you inside."  
  
"And I am truly thankful for it, but Frodo and Sam, they are still out there!" He said, rising to his feet. He swayed and Bella steadied him.  
  
"Please," she said, "Come sit in our Living room and rest."  
  
With Bella's help, Merry made his way into the warm living room, just to the left of where he had been sitting. A small fire was burning; giving off almost no smoke and in a seat just to the side of it was an elderly Hobbit. He looked as though he had once been a fine strong lad but time had dragged at him and he was certainly no longer in any shape to do physical work. He peered at Merry from under an unruly mop of white hair. Bella steered him into a seat facing her father, who raised his head to look him directly in the eye. It was a stern stare, no doubt it had seen through many a child's lie.  
  
"Master Brandybuck?" he said in quiet disbelief. His voice was surprisingly strong. "You shouldn't go a-mixing yourself up in such things."  
  
"Believe me, it's the last thing I want, but I don't have a choice, I must continue."  
  
"And we've no thought of stopping you, but you must know what you are facing. Now, I don't claim to understand what you've done in the past, no doubt you've faced danger before, but every danger is different and as I always say, you must know your enemy!"  
  
Bella smiled fondly at her father and offered to make tea. Everyone wanted one so she went into the kitchen to make them.  
  
"Is there anything you can tell me about, whatever it is?" There was no answer, Merry looked up at the old Hobbit and saw him with his head in his hands.  
  
"We lost a family member to it." Said Hal, getting up from his seat across the room "My sister to be more precise, just a year older than Bella. It took her while she was sleeping, we don't know how nor why, but it did. She was missing for a week before they found her, though they didn't mean to. A group of Shiriffs went to investigate a new forest that's sprung up just a mile away. I seen it, horrible and dark, looms over you like it would swallow you whole if it could and it's surrounded by thorny bushes, brambles at a first look but the thorns are bigger and harder and if any fruit grows on it, it won't make no jam. None that I'd eat anyroad.  
  
"It was on them bushes that she were found, I watched them take her off them. She look as though she ran straight into them and she weren't clumsy like that. She looked different once they got her off, I don't mean dead, she were plainly that, but that ain't what struck me. She looked older, like how mum looked when she were on her deathbed. She were only twenty-two but she looked more 'an eighty." Hal broke off and stifled the tears that were fresh in his eyes "Anyroad, I don't think that anyone what gets in that forest will ever get out again, not alive."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear of your loss," said Merry after a pause, "But I cannot leave Pippin." Bella re-entered the room with a tray full of cups of tea. She handed one to her father and offered one to Merry, who took it gratefully and began sipping the hot liquid.  
  
"You are continuing then?" Said Bella after a moment of sipping at her mug. Merry nodded and put down his cup, he wasn't going to push his luck and he had drunk quite a lot for someone in his condition. "Well then," continued Bella, "You'll want to know where the forest is then?" Again, Merry nodded. "Right then," said Bella and she explained to Merry how to get there.  
  
There was a great ruckus at the door. Hal looked over expectantly to his father who shook his head. Hal rose and went to the door, he opened it. In fell a slightly reddened and wheezing Frodo, closely followed by Sam, he looked as though he would much rather be carrying Frodo rather than him having to make his own way everywhere. A pony came to a halt halfway into the doorway, skidding a little and spreading dirt onto the tidy tiles of the hallway.  
  
"Have you.. Seen.. A Hobbit.. Pass by?" said Frodo inbetween gasps. "He would have just.. Fallen from his horse." Hal ushered them in and checked outside before he shut the door. Two ponies were huddled awkwardly in the hallway next to the hat stand. Hal took their leads and put a hand on their trembling bodies and whispered soft mumblings to them to calm them.  
  
"I'm here Frodo, I'm here." Said Merry, standing up from the chair that was obscuring him from sight and laying a hand on his cousin's arm. Frodo jumped and then drew Merry into a tight hug.  
  
"Don't you EVER do that again!" he said into Merry's shoulder in very much the same way as a mother would after her child has just climbed down from the top of the tallest tree in the garden.  
  
"Believe me, if I have anything to say about it, I won't!" said Merry.  
  
Frodo pulled away from Merry and Sam stepped in and drew Merry into his own embrace then quickly moved away again, almost embarrassed. Merry smiled at them both but his face soon hardened.  
  
"You wish to leave?" said Frodo, reading his cousin's face like a book. Merry nodded solemnly. "Then we shall be off!" 


	12. Journeys

A/N: It seems everyone (and by that I mean Sakura123 because no one else is reading) has waited another long while for me to update. Sorry! I hope it's good enough to make up for my crudness. A special thanks goes to Sakura123 for being the one person for whom I seem to be writing this story. You are really keeping me going here!  
  
Pippin started off at a slow pace, he was at the mercy of his instincts and they told him that he shouldn't stray too far into the trees. The continuing song soon overruled that. It pulled him faster and faster, deeper and deeper into the dark forest. He could hear it clearer now, he was getting closer.  
  
By now he was running at full pelt. He ducked under branches and dodged around trees and completely ignored thorns when they caught his trousers. He lost track of time as he ran it could have been for hours or it could have been for seconds.  
  
He skidded to a halt and used a tree to stop himself. He looked over his shoulder for any danger, he knew it was lurking just beyond his range of sight but it would not show itself. His head snapped back round to the singing. He was no longer sure if he wanted to see the singer, her song was full of feeling but Pippin could not pinpoint what that feeling was. At times he was certain it was sadness, sadness so deep that it was barely detectable but at other times it was joyous and merry, the tune of someone so contented that the happiness was just a part of everyday life.  
  
It was during one of these happier moments that Pippin gathered together enough courage to peer around the tree that he had so far only been trying to stare through.  
  
He gasped; the woods were illuminated with an ethereal light. He felt as though he were looking back through time and right in the centre was the singer. She was wearing a white dress, it was spotless and the light emanating from it was almost blinding. Once Pippin's eyes had adjusted to the light he could see that trees surrounding the singer changed as well. They were younger and their bark smoother. They were the kind of trees you could comfortably sit under on a hot summer's day. Their branches didn't block out all sunlight, but dappled it on the ground.  
  
Pippin jerked out of his trance. He was himself once more. He couldn't remember how he got there but he could guess. Right now though, that was not his biggest problem. The song was changing, an underlying theme emerged and it was angry.  
  
*** "Good luck to you!" cried Bella as she waved the three travellers on their way. They were well supplied with food now, and both Frodo and Sam were enjoying a loaf of bread. Unfortunately, Merry's horse had managed to run off with no rider to guide it so Merry was now sat in front of Sam.  
  
Merry was the only one of the three that was not eating. He could still feel the tea sloshing around inside him and he felt comfortably filled up for the first time in a week. He glanced over at Frodo and jumped when he saw two figures floating either side of him. He had forgotten completely about Drogo and his wife. Merry smiled a little at the people they passed as they jogged along the road. As they turned away from the road and onto a grassy meadow whose fence had been blown down, they passed a group of three young lasses. They all had flowers in their hair and wore plain, slightly mucky dresses. One of them was carrying a basket of apples.  
  
They were giggling among themselves and when the ponies came past they all looked up and said their good mornings, to which Merry replied with another good morning. Sam made a questioning noise and turned his attention from the direction of the pony to Merry.  
  
"What was that?" he asked. Merry realised with a jolt that the young girls had not really been there, not with the living anyway. He checked behind, and sure enough there was only the faintest laughter and other than that, no sign that anyone was ever there.  
  
"Nothing." He mumbled to Sam. When would he stop seeing these people? And if he didn't, would he ever work out the difference between the living and the dead?  
  
"Sam." Said Merry and received a grunt in reply. "Have we passed anyone since we set out from Bag End?"  
  
"Not likely with it still threatening to rain like this." Replied Sam, glancing up at the light grey sky. Merry returned to his thinking; he had seen at least a dozen people since they'd left Bag End and there always seemed to be more around the corner.  
  
A Hobbit came cantering towards them, the soft ground indenting slightly as he rode up. He was coming to them head on, but he wasn't slowing down. The ponies showed no signs of noticing and when he glanced over at Frodo, Merry saw that he too, saw nothing. He looked back to the rider, and he was no longer there. This was ridiculous. The only way Merry had of telling whether another was dead or not, was the reaction of the others. Though the reactions of Drogo and Primula helped none, as they greeted each person, living or dead along the way. Merry decided to hide his ability to see what others could not, as it could certainly unnerve those that did not know of his 'gift'.  
  
They travelled another five minutes in silence, until Frodo remarked upon the clouds.  
  
"They are getting darker, are they not?" No one replied. It was plain that they were and Merry at least had an idea of what that meant. The ground took an upward turn and the ponies stumbled their way up. Towards the top Frodo's slipped on the increasingly wet earth. The wind was stronger, in fact, the weather all round was harsher. They rounded the top of the small hill and saw what they were looking for. It was still a little was off, but they could see that between the trees, it was black as night.  
  
The sky above swirled as if in torment and the blackened clouds formed ugly, tortured shapes. The trees below were as mangled as the sky above. All around the edge, the plants had grown wild and un-welcoming. The untamed grass looked sharp and fierce, even from a distance. Beyond that, the trees were gnarled and undoubtedly old. They stood tall and confident above all else, dominating the landscape like they had been there since time began.  
  
The three looked at each other. They could all see in the others' eyes that they were not expecting anything so large as this. Frodo shrugged and urged his pony onward.  
  
***  
  
Pippin's legs jolted to a start and shot him backward only to meet another tree. The singer's hand was clenched around a branch. It was a dainty hand and with the glow that surrounded it, it seemed like a dream. The hand squeezed and squeezed until the branch splintered and broke off and fell to the ground. The hand shook away the remaining splinters and the deceptively calm singer walked towards Pippin, almost strolling.  
  
Pippin dared not look up at the face that was fast approaching him. His head was pointed firmly downward and his eyes tight shut. He felt his way around the tree until he found the darkness he was searching for. He ran blindly forward, his eyes so used to the light of the singer were useless in the darkness. He soon came to another tree and he stumbled around it.  
  
The anger of the song was now clearly evident and with a particularly harsh snap of notes, Pippin came back to himself. He paused a moment, trying to figure out his feelings. He was scared, scared beyond belief, but why? He should be running. Yes, he would rely on that and run.  
  
He moved away from the tree that he had been clinging to, but a hand caught his before it had left the rough bark of the tree. The skin felt as though it was made of silk and if he puled hard enough he would merely slip out of the grip. But the grip tightened, almost unbearably. He could feel bones moving in ways they were not meant to and pull as he might, he could not release them. A shiver travelled visibly up his arm and through his body, followed by a tingling that made its way to the very tips of his toes and then died away.  
  
All of a sudden, the music stopped. 


	13. searching

A/N: Ok, so it was a long time again. But it's quite a long chapter (by my standards) and I have two readers! Yee! Well, I'm going to sit in a corner and do some homework now. Happy, happy, joy, joy.  
  
The forest had placed itself in a small valley and the two ponies were carefully crawling their way down but still slipping in the mud. Sam and Merry's mount started a long slide when it was halfway down the slope. It scrambled backwards in vain and the speed only increased. It's back legs slipped and it sat down in the mud, though that did nothing to the speed. Merry slipped off the back, closely followed by Sam while the pony skidded faster and faster towards the awaiting thorns.  
  
The pony let out a terrible scream of terror as it plunged towards the forest. Its eye fixed on a thorn pointing towards its chest. The thorn found its mark.  
  
"Brandy!" yelled Sam as he scrambled down behind his faithful steed. He carefully approached it where it stood, swaying slightly. He reached out the pony's shoulder and patted it, shushing it with calming words. The pony snickered softly as its knees buckled and it collapsed further into the thorn bushes.  
  
Sam wiped a shocked tear from his eye and walked a little closer to the body "B-brandy?" he called. The sound fell on deaf ears. Sam turned away from the sickening sight. The thorns were long enough to go right through the poor pony's body. His heart went out to Hal, who had seen in his own sister impaled on these very thorns and he whispered a small prayer that Pippin had not come to the same end.  
  
Merry slid slowly down beside Sam on his bottom. His eyes were fixated on the gruesome sight until he, too, could look no longer.  
  
Finally, Frodo carefully led his pony to the base of the hill, his eyes avoiding the sight completely. His pony's eyes were wide with fright and its ears were flat against its head. Frodo reached an arm over its back and buried his face in its neck.  
  
"Shh, Whiskey. Calm down now, shh." He whispered and the pony responded by relaxing a little but its ears were still ringing with its brother's final scream.  
  
"We must find a way in." Said Merry, "Give me a leg up Sam." He said. Knowing that he needed his strength for once they were inside the forest and there was already so very little of it.  
  
***  
  
Pippin wrenched his gaze from the floor and turned his head upward and looked to the woman's face. His eyes bypassed all of her features and locked straight into her eyes. They were deep wells of nothingness. They were like the eyes of an Ent, only, empty.  
  
She had no pupil, no iris, even the whites of her eyes couldn't even be seen. Pippin's eyes were drawn into hers, like she had sucked them in to try and fill the emptiness inside her own. Pippin lost himself inside those eyes. They gave out a dark light that swirled around him. He was suffocated, drowning, flying, and floating all at once. He couldn't stand the feeling of dying a thousand deaths and then being brought back into the world another thousand times over.  
  
Despair was thronging through him as each second brought another spasm of ecstasy. He was losing his life, his innocence, and his very essence. Then he was rebuilt, interwoven with something else, the very world around him. His head snapped back down to the ground, which was suddenly much closer. He was on his knees and shaking with fright, anger, sadness, laughter, he was so confused! What had happened?  
  
Pippin glanced around, but he didn't. He didn't need to glance around because he could already see everywhere, from the darkened sky, to the mud covered ground. He could see the trees before and behind him and they were no longer shrouded in darkness.  
  
He reached out to a tree beside him and was shocked to see his skin glowing. He looked for a source of the light but could find none other than himself. He suddenly realised that his injuries were missing. The throbbing had been silenced and it no longer hurt if he bent his arm in a certain way. A grin made its way onto his face and to his delight, the light of his skin grew brighter. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but he quickly silenced it, he never remembered his voice sounding as, well, Elvish as that. He had lost his charming Tookish accent, or indeed, any kind of hobbity accent and his voice had become flowing and smooth. It was by no means a nasty sound, but Pippin was sad to have lost one of his defining features. If he was going to call for help, how was anyone to know it was he? The light around him took on a bluer tone, which made him giggle in his foreign voice again, in turn, making the light brighten again.  
  
'Back to the clearing we go.' Thought Pippin and he found that he knew exactly where it was. In his head, he found a map of the forest. Somehow, he knew every tree and bush and which direction they were in. He also knew that he couldn't escape as there was something around the outside of the forest that would prevent him from leaving but he passed it so long ago he couldn't remember what it was. But these weren't his memories, he couldn't have passed the edge of the forest more than a day previous could he?  
  
Still, he made his way towards the clearing and revelled in his heightened senses. He could feel every stick, twig and leaf under his leathery feet, which, he couldn't help thinking, defeated the point of them being leathery all together. He stood on a particularly sharp stick and wished he hadn't. He hopped up to a tree and lent on it while he pulled the offending twig out of his foot. That was certainly nothing to be hurt by, it had barely scratched the surface of his foot! Pippin completely understood, for the first time in his life, why big people wore boots. He'd have to watch where he put his feet from now on.  
  
***  
  
Frodo was sitting in front of Merry and Sam was carefully leading them, holding tightly to the reins. Merry heard a faint neigh and he looked up to the source of it at the top of the hill. He could see a faint silhouette of a pony rearing and Whiskey snickered in response. Could that be Brandy? Why was he not solid like the other ghosts? And, come to think of it, where were Drogo and Primula?  
  
Merry opened his mouth to say something but an almost silent whisper in his ear halted him.  
  
"We are still here. Say nothing about it." It was so quiet Merry couldn't tell whose voice it was, but he took its advice and kept quiet.  
  
Another twenty minutes passed in silence and there were now near halfway around the forest and getting back towards civilisation.  
  
"It's no use walking 'round the whole forest if all we're going to find is thorns and bracken, even this grass is getting hard on my legs, they'll be fair on bleeding if we carry on much more." It wasn't like Sam to complain but all four of them (even the pony) could see the truth in his words. "I see some gardens up ahead, perhaps not the best tended of all gardens but there must be someone's home there and I say we go ask for help."  
  
"Good idea Sam," agreed Frodo, "I for one could do with getting away from this gloomy forest."  
  
They were agreed. They made their way to the nearest garden and it was not in a good shape. The fence was broken and being pulled at by brambles and blackberry bushes that looked as though they had once been in orderly rows. Strawberries were sprouting everywhere and raspberry and black currant plants were fighting each other for dominance. Deadly nightshade was covering every piece of spare ground and plant, strangling anything in its way and an old ivy plant had sprung to life and was slowly squeezing the life out of an apple tree.  
  
It was like nature had gone mad. The plants were ignoring the time of year and blossoming and fruiting all at once. Even the plants that were plainly dying were joining the huge struggle to reach the forest before any other.  
  
Sam took a stick from the base of the apple tree and beat a way through the tangle of deadwood and living thorns. Sam soon worked up a good sweat and once he and the others on the pony had got through there was a streak down his back for all to see.  
  
Frodo dismounted from the pony now that they were able to walk freely without being tripped by a plant. They walked to the front of the house, but that looked little better than the back. The door was slightly open and it had obviously been that way for many a day judging by the piles of dirt and leaves inside.  
  
The next hole along looked a little more promising. There was furniture inside and even a coat hung over the back of a chair. Frodo knocked on the door and waited. No reply. He knocked again, but louder. Still nothing. He then practically banged on the door with all his might. They listened for sound inside but there was none, not even a shuffling of feet. They did, however, get a reaction from the hole next door.  
  
A middle-aged hobbit lady stuck her head out of the door a fiercely whispered to them.  
  
"Stop your noise or you'll wake the plants!" This was met by blank and confused looks so she continued in a softer voice, "Come on in and I'll explain." 


	14. Pippin has changed

A/N: Been a bit of a long time hadn't it? But those reviews do work! They gave me a right good kick up the bottom and got me moving. Thanks, I needed that.  
  
Pippin wandered back to the clearing, all sense of the urgency he had earlier was washed away. He now took his time gazing at the before unseeable sky. To his eyes it was brighter than it was before but still it was swirling and angry, in turmoil and being torn in twain by an unknown force. He stared harder at the sky, willing it to be calm again and out of a far off memory the image of a blue sky floated before his eyes. The sky as it once was in Gondor. Pippin snapped back to himself, where were all these memories coming from? For he was certain they weren't his. If he were to think of a blue sky, it would be a blue sky of the Shire. In his confusion, he failed to notice the change in the sky above to its normal dull grey self.  
  
Pippin walked and pondered upon what had happened to him. As he pondered, he kept no track of where he was going and his path wandered. Pippin soon realised that it was taking longer than it should be to reach his destination. He gazed around at the trees, as individual and different from one another as Frodo was different from Merry. At the thought of his friends, the light around him grew bluer again, how were they faring? Was Merry still ill and how well were the others looking after him? He could answer the second part of the question easily, they were taking perfect care of him. Unless, they were out looking for him, which brought him back to his own dilemma, where had he got himself? He was getting far too reflective and he kept getting lost in his thought!  
  
Looking around he saw immediately that he had gone too far east of the clearing and turned back to the path. Only a little way further, however, he found himself in trouble once more. He was face to face with five evil wolf creatures that seemed in abundance in this wood. Pippin backed up against a tree, he couldn't run they would catch him by the heels, bring him down and tear him to pieces and there were no sticks for self-defence. His light became a sickly yellow colour as the situation seemed more and more dire. The beasts came closer and closer to Pippin, cutting off all ways of escape, unless he found a new flying ability. The beasts were now in the perfect position to spring upon him, but they didn't. Pippin became confused by their hesitation, but then realisation hit him and he smirked. The light around him disappeared and in its stead was a cloud of darkness. The creatures around him became even more unsure of themselves and one began to whimper. The noise fuelled Pippin's malice towards these foul animals, they attacked him while he was weak, playing with him as a cat plays with an injured mouse but now he was stronger than they and was able to teach them a lesson.  
  
Pippin moved away from his tree towards the whimpering being cowering in front of him. The shadow around him grew and the creature ran howling into the trees. The remaining four growled and advanced upon him, but he would not be pushed back. The creatures were baffled by his actions; he was their prey and prey always ran it always ran to the thorns and impaled itself there. Then they would drag the still feebly struggling body from the bushes and into the darkness where they would do what they will with it. But this morsel was different, almost not worth the danger of fighting it. But not quite, there was nothing in their realm that could fight them. Well, nothing solid.  
  
They drew their circle in. Pippin grinned, if he could see himself he would have scared himself out of his skin. This grin looked to contain nothing but evil intentions and it was most unlike anything Pippin had ever looked like. One of the creatures ran and pounced at him. Pippin's hands were as quick as Legolas' and they caught the beast by the throat and they squeezed. They squeezed and they wouldn't stop. The thing's eyes were bulging out of its head and its tongue was lolling out of its mouth. The remaining three made off into the safety of the trees, lest they found themselves on the other end of this new foe's arms. Things popped and cracked beneath Pippin's grip, small as it was and his fingers soon broke the skin. The feel of the warm blood washing over his hands was like a smack to Pippin. The shadow was instantly washed away by his returning light and he dropped the body.  
  
Pippin stared at his hands in dismay, what had happened to him? He was never so violent and malicious, even in battle. The troll had only been killed in defence of his good friend Beregond. He looked back to the lifeless carcass, lifeless by his hands. He left the scene as fast as his small legs would allow. He stopped only to wipe the incriminating red liquid from his hands and then ran again for the clearing. When he got there, something told him everything would return to normal.  
  
***  
  
Frodo entered the house, closely followed by Merry and finally Sam. All three of them looked to the lady for answers immediately and she was very obliging. After showing them into her sitting room and showing them to some chairs she remained standing and began to talk.  
  
"It started not too long ago, when the forest first moved here. We thought it mighty strange to say the least but we lived with it. Until the bodies started coming." She began to pace. "They found them in the plants, all old and wrinkled but with the body of someone no more than 10 years. The plants could fell the forest as well, they went mad, like a wild dog straining to get at something if you get my meaning sirs. Then Hob on the end was taken down by his own raspberry patch. Saved only by his son. Lucky he was. He left son after." Her hands were restless and she was wringing them together as she continued pacing. "Then next-door began hearing noises in the night. Twigs scratching at the windows when there weren't no tree there, then I wakes up one morning to find them gone, my first thought is that the plants took 'em, but I got a note delivered next post saying how it were to dangerous around here. They're right too, I'm leaving as soon as is possible.  
  
You can't make no loud noises for them plants is only sleeping and you don't want to be nowhere near them when they wake up. Twist around your neck they will, they'll squeeze the life out of you." She stopped pacing but instead stood, eyes wide, staring at the floor, giving off a feeling of one who is scared beyond reason.  
  
"Please, my dear lady, don't speak of it any more, you are obviously distressed." Said Frodo as kindly and soothingly as he could. The scared hobbit nodded vaguely at him. "Please," continued Frodo, "Do you know of anyway of entering the forest?" The woman stopped stock still, staring at Frodo as though he had lost his mind, but said nothing.  
  
"Please!" said Merry loudly, making her jump, "Out friend is in there he needs our help. We have to help him!" Merry had none of the softness of Frodo and the woman looked shaken but then she began talking and babbling, positively pushing them out of her home.  
  
"No no no, you don't want to go in there, no, you can't go in there, you'll never come out, you friend will never come out. Dead he is, can't do anything about it. Dead, dead, dead. All them are, another body he'll be, nothing more, dead." She was getting beyond comprehension as she shooed them outside back onto the overgrown road and shut the door firmly behind them. The three were going to have some trouble getting into that forest it seemed. 


End file.
